


The Future Starts Slow

by harrietspecter



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 02:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrietspecter/pseuds/harrietspecter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna had made it her mission to move them back to his office. After all, neither one of them wanted to spend another minute on the 46th floor when they had a 50th floor office to get back to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Future Starts Slow

Donna had made it her mission to move them back to his office. After all, neither one of them wanted to spend another minute on the 46th floor when they had a 50th floor office to get back to. She even went so far as to get the dollies in the file room to move the boxes he had barely unpacked. She wasn't going to wait for the movers to move them back. It was already closing time, no one would be around, especially on a Friday night. So, she recruited Mike to help her move all the heavy stuff just before he left. Harvey was surprised when Jessica came down and took a few boxes of his records back up. When everything was gone from the cramped office, he gave one last look at it before turning to the elevator.

As he rode the elevator back up to his office, he wondered if Donna would sit in with him and do mindless paperwork on the other side of his desk like she had in Paul Porter's office. Like they used to do at the DA's office. Like they used to do here, until the rumours started. The elevator dinging the arrival of the car to the 50th floor brought him out of his reverie. He'd have to casually bring it up. Or maybe just yell her name a couple times when he figured out how exactly to turn off the intercom on his phone.

"Nice of you to finally show your face," Donna greeted as she stood next to his record shelf. She was taking note of the record in her hand and placing it on the shelf where it had taken residence before the move.

"I thought you didn't have a photographic memory," he said as he watched her glance and place the records a few times in a matter of seconds.

"When it comes to boring things like a survey of all fifty states? I do not. When it comes to my orderly, very precise filing of your records over the last 13 years? Then I do," she told him. All the while, placing dust jackets appropriately.

"Need any help?" he asked.

She paused, one of his father's records in her hands, and looked to him.

"I'm sorry, did you just ask to get assigned a chore? Manual labor? I thought that was beneath the great Harvey Specter?" Donna asked.

"We'll be here all night if I don't help," Harvey said.

"You can arrange your balls," Donna said with a smirk.

"Pretty sure they're all nice and aligned," Harvey countered.

"I'm not even going to touch that one," she said.

"You would if you had bigger balls," he said. He smiled when she recognised the phrase she had thrown at him five years ago.

Donna shook her head and turned to the far corner of the shelving system by the window and placed the record in her hand on the top shelf. She listened as packing material was shredded open by his impatience and he began to align his baseballs behind his desk again.

They worked in quiet and companionable silence. He would occasionally walk around her and check what she was doing, but he stayed away. She had a system, and he was not going to mess it up if he could help it. It reminded him of the time he had made junior partner and they began to move him into this office. He had ordered take out, had Ray pick it up with an order to bring the Macallan 18 along with the take out. They had spent the night unpacking, he made her take a break, where they went back and forth retelling stories of his father. As his stomach growled when he placed the Larry Bird basketball on its proper stand, he decided to take the same chance as five years ago. Hopefully solidifying their partnership to each other once again.

* * *

He had made some flimsy excuse about going to the bathroom. He was sure she didn't believe it but he didn't care. He called Ray, having him drive over to Iago's and getting dinner for the two of them. The restaurant was long closed, it being 11 o'clock at night. But as soon as they ousted Daniel, he called the chef, a close friend of Donna's, and told him they'd needed their usual, to go, at 11. The man always came through, not wanting to feel the wrath of his red-headed secretary. She had earned the baked four cheese ziti she only ever indulged in when they went out for their anniversary. She'd complain about it until she had her pilates class on Wednesday morning. But she always ordered it, so he figured it was safe. And she had more than earned that and the chocolate torte he had Eric stick in there just because he could.

Harvey was pleased with himself when he exited the elevator after taking the food from Ray at the lobby. He was so pleased with himself, he had given the man the rest of the night off. When Ray looked skeptically at him, he promised Donna was still there and she actually drove to work this morning. Ray looked less concerned as he mentioned Donna's name and gave his employer a wink before high tailing it out the large glass doors.

When Harvey made his way back to his office, he noticed Donna had company. He placed the take out bag on his conference table and gave Donna a look.

"I guess it's dinner time," Donna said.

"Don't let me disturb you," Jessica said with a laugh.

He couldn't really be rude and abrupt with his boss now. Not after she had told him that if he went, she went. He'd give her the weekend and then be back to his usual crass, smart ass self.

"You want some? I ordered two things for Donna, just in case she didn't want what I picked for her," Harvey said. He removed the chocolate torte and set it away from the dinner. If Donna saw that, she'd forget all about dinner in favour of the dessert.

"Ziti or half and half thin spaghetti," Donna guessed.

When Harvey gave her the look, she knew she was right.

"What the hell is half and half spaghetti?" Jessica asked.

"Half marinara sauce, half alfredo sauce," Harvey answered. "She likes it better than just plain of either sauce."

"I want what you picked out in the first place," Donna said. She knew what he had picked as soon as he walked in and she smelled the familiar scent of Italian food.

He brought the ziti over and he missed the small grin that appeared on her lips as she opened the black take out box. Jessica, however, didn't miss a single thing.

"What did you get?" Jessica asked as he brought the other two boxes over.

"Bolognese," Harvey said. He watched Jessica's eyes widen before reluctantly turning to Donna's number two box.

Harvey switched containers with Jessica before she opened it. When she gave him a questioning look, he shrugged.

"She turned me onto it," Harvey said.

"And how long have you had that up your sleeve?" Jessica asked as she opened her box.

"Six years?" Donna looked over to Harvey. He nodded as he began to mix the sauces. "It was Easter with his dad. And since we couldn't eat meat on Fridays, I suggested pasta. They looked at me like I was from some distant planet. Proved them wrong, since Gordon had it that way every single time since then."

Harvey and Donna shared a look. He smiled slightly at the memory before twirling the noodles and shoving them into his mouth.

She looked down and speared the pasta noodles with her own smile.

Jessica watched the two carefully. She would make her exit gracefully, just as soon as she was done with this pasta.

* * *

When Jessica left, Harvey turned to his record collection. Donna watched him go to the box near the window as she kicked her heels off and put her feet up, stretching to fit herself along his couch. She watched as he moved to the one that contained all his most cherished records. The ones that went on the top left corner of his shelving unit. The ones no one but her fingers and his fingers were allowed to touch. The ones that contained his father's name, as well as all the records she had given him every year for his birthday and Christmas.

"Which one are you looking for?" Donna asked from the couch. Her voice was low and raspy from lack of use.

"The last one he gave to us," Harvey said as he looked through the dust covers.

"Should be fifth to last," she said as she took a sip from his scotch glass just within her reach. Hers had been empty for a while now, she had made him only pour her a small finger while he went for a double. After all, he said, it's a celebration.

"You do it by year, don't you? Shouldn't it be last or first?" Harvey asked as he flipped to the fifth to last one in the box. He found it and ran his hands over the dust cover.

"I make sure that one is in between a few of them. Even though it was the last one, and yes I do it by year. You know Mike would go through it and find it," Donna said.

"He's still going through my record collection when he's waiting for me to get here?" Harvey asked.

"Yep," Donna nodded. "I was on a coffee run for us before you arrived and saw him going through the shelf closest to me. So, he's got a while to reach the good stuff."

"Or I could tell him to stop. Obviously his time with Louis wasn't punishment enough," Harvey told her.

"And then he knows you have something to hide in those records. To him, they're just going to be your dad's records with some random bands. He's not going to know the significance," Donna said as she moved her arm to rest along the back of the couch.

"Fine," he agreed as he walked over to his record player. "But when he's sees the dust cover?"

" _To Fire, you and the boy inspired this album. Love, Gordon_ ," Donna repeated back to him from memory. After his father died, she had given him the record Gordon gave her. He had written on her dust cover but not his. She knew he'd keep it safe and well-preserved. Plus, she had just as much access to it as Harvey did.

"Yes," Harvey nodded.

"Just don't let him get to that shelf then," Donna shrugged. "Problem solved."

"You make it sound so simple," he said as he put the record on the player. He hovered the needle over the very edge and began to play the album.

He grabbed the chocolate torte from the table beside him and moved back to the couch. He sat on the cushion that her feet rested on. She scrunched her feet up as much as possible while wearing a skirt and watched him scoot more to the middle cushion before putting her legs back down on his lap, her feet extending just past his form. For his part, he leaned back and placed his own legs up on the coffee table in front of him.

"What'd you get me for dessert?" she asked as she saw another take out box in his hand.

"I only got one spoon. Obviously, I didn't get you anything. You always complain about feeling fat until pilates after Iago's," Harvey said as he opened the top of the box.

"I will lick my fork clean and use it," Donna warned.

"We can share the spoon," Harvey said. "You are not getting any of this on my couch or contaminating anything in this box with leftover ziti cheese and sauce."

He put the box that contained the flour-less cake on her legs just above her knees.

"A spoon?" she asked.

"Who knows what Eric was thinking. There's a chocolate drizzle on it," Harvey said as he leaned the box towards her.

Donna watched as he made a small dent in the cake and he handed her the spoon.

She licked the spoon clean and he narrowed his eyes at her briefly before she handed the spoon back.

"How is it?" he asked.

"It's good. But I don't think anything will ever come close to the sachertorte," she said honestly.

He looked up at her from his own spoonful of the torte. He was surprised she would bring that up. Then again, he had briefly brought up the past in his own mind, as he told Eric to put it in. But as he tasted his own spoonful of the chocolate dessert, he realised she was correct.

"Hotel Sacher in Vienna," Harvey said quietly.

They looked at each other briefly, and Donna's head tilted as he got lost in the memory. And she wasn't that far behind.

They both were lost in the memory of that dessert. It was one of their first overseas trips together. Jessica hadn't batted an eyelash as he told her Donna would be coming with him to Vienna. She wasn't stupid. She was well aware of the younger woman's delicate position in the newly minted junior partner's life. Especially after what had happened with his father. She had told him they would pay for his hotel room and airfare, but she'd have to cover her own. When he had Donna book the hotel and flight, he had her use his corporate card, paying for her room and flight, making her none the wiser.

They had dinner at the hotel their last night there. The wine and conversation flowed seamlessly between the two of them like always. She had ordered the world famous sachertorte for dessert. He had told the waiter he would share. The double layer of dense, slightly bitter chocolate cake was somehow sweet. Donna had told him it was the apricot jam in between the two layers. It could have also been the rich, dark chocolate icing on the top layer and coating the edge of the torte. She had offered him a taste, just a bite because the rest was hers after all the work she had done, she had said with her fork pointed at him. He had looked at her skeptically but nodded. He had watched her place the whipped cream on the cake with her fingers, hearing the small laugh as it ended up all over her fingers and she began to lick it off. The auburn in her hair only emphasised by the single candle that lit their two person table. She had extended the fork over the table, and he had leaned over and ate it, rather than taking the fork and bringing it to his own mouth. He had ended up with more than one bite that night, after he threatened to pull the torte to his side of the table and use his own fork.

He had kissed her that night, as she called it a night and stood up to move to the second bedroom in the hotel room. The taste of bitter chocolate from the torte and the Bordeaux they had with their dinner, mixing together on their tongues as she kissed him back. When he had pulled back, he had whispered an apology. She had given him a slight smile and kissed the corner of his mouth, telling him she had wanted it too. But they couldn't start something. It was the city, being away from their home. It was the bottle of wine and the sinfully delicious chocolate torte. He was still reeling from his father and she was still trying to get over her feelings she had been having since leaving his father's funeral. She ran her thumb across his lips with a sad smile and pulled out of his grasp. Not looking back to his form as she shut the door to her own room.

They were startled out of their memories as the song switched on the record from a low and slow song to a louder song. Their eyes met and Donna looked down, taking the spoon from his fingers and scooping some of the chocolate torte as he sipped at his scotch. They switched, the scotch for the spoon until both were finished and only crumbs were left at the bottom of the take out box.

Harvey placed both the empty box and glass on the table before them and leaned back into the soft leather of his couch. He placed his hands on her legs, absentmindedly tracing patterns on the smooth, pale skin of her legs.

"The boxes aren't going to unpack themselves," Donna said halfheartedly as she leaned into her hand that rested on the back of the couch.

"We've moved out of Paul's office. Let's just…" he paused for a moment to look at her. "Let's just enjoy the moment."

"Okay," she nodded. It wasn't like him to want to sit and enjoy the moment. Usually he had one mode: running. She had only seen him put the brakes on twice before this time. Once, when his father died. That night when he had lied and told her he was doing fine. He would have let things be, but she had come anyway. The other time was  _the other time_  at her own condo. The rush was overwhelming until he put on the full stop. That next morning, when he had brought her a coffee and an apology, it was her lying to him, telling him she was fine.

Donna blinked up at him as he called her name.

"You okay?" Harvey asked.

"Just enjoying the moment," she told him with a smile.

He examined her and she stared back unflinchingly, not wanting him to start running again. They still had a lot to talk about, but for now she could just enjoy the two of them being together like old times.

* * *

Placing the needle down at the appropriate position, he waited through the familiar static of the record queuing up before the sounds of the tap drum began to play softly. He turned and watched as she sat up on the couch, a questioning glance thrown in his direction. His only response was to walk towards the couch.

He held his hand out for her to take, his fingers waving slightly as she paused to look up at his face.

"There's no one here," Harvey said quietly.

It was a lie, and they both knew it. He was sure Jessica was still in her office. Louis was no doubt in his reeling from his back and forth day. But he couldn't care less right now. He was on one of his winning highs. Donna came back to him. She had sat in his tiny little office after moving just because he was out of sync and somehow knew he needed her there. And best of all, she never made the mistake of misplacing the memo. He knew it deep down, but had only figured it out after he was high and with Mike in the office as they collaborated at her desk. And they had finally gotten rid of the thorn in their side, once and for all. They had been waiting for his revenge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Harvey was only sorry it had to fall on Donna.

Her hand grabbing his had sent him crashing out of his musings. Her hand was soft yet he could feel the slightest hint of roughness from years and years of filing and paperwork. One of many things unique only to her.

He pulled her up from his couch, pausing as she put her heels back on. Dancing in her bare feet was too intimate, too personal. Not appropriate for where they were right now.

He moved around the boxes still scattered on the floor, the space between his desk and the table was one of the few places that didn't have cardboard and packing tape leftovers.

"If I run into a corner of a box, I'm not coming in Monday morning," she told him as her hand twisted into his and she curled her fingers between his.

He only smirked and curled his own fingers against hers.

Their bodies moved closer, his hand moved over the flare of her hips. His fingers moving over the soft material as his hand moved from her front to the small of her back. Her free hand moved under his suit jacket to rest against the small of his own back. And as they took the first step in their dance, their bodies were almost flush against each other. Her cheek moved to press against his. The good thing about wearing heels was she was almost as tall as him, which made it easy to make their own dance.

They began to make slow circles, and she laughed quietly in his ear as he recalled the last time they danced with each other at Jessica's charity event.

They weren't face to face, which made him bolder in his stride to get answers out of her. He needed questions answered, just like she did. Face to face, she had only gotten upset with him. Perhaps if they were trapped together in a dance, they'd be more open and honest with each other.

"Why'd you really come back?" he whispered against her temple. It had only been a few days since she kicked Cameron out of her cubicle, and he already felt like she had been back for years.

"You said you needed me and gave me a bigger bonus," Donna said.

"You're not about the money. You've never been about the money," he told her.

"You said you can't be you without me," she said. "Did you mean it?"

He pulled back and made sure she was looking directly at him before he gave the answer.

"Yes," he nodded.

"Then you've finally realised my worth," Donna said. "Even though I'll always be a little miffed you didn't fight for me the first time, you had some kind of realisation. Next time, I expect you to fight for me. You told me last night that you believed me when I said I never saw the memo. Just back me up instead of backing me into a corner."

"My dad and Jessica, in a way," Harvey said. "I went to his grave and I was having all these memories this year, of five years ago, when you first told me. It was the first year you weren't there with me. The next day, I decided I needed you back and told Jessica. Jessica asked me during the Cameron Dennis situation, to think about what my life would be like without you. My imagination didn't come close to reality. God that sounds cheesy, like a line they'd use in a soap opera to woo the lady."

She gave him a small smile, absorbing the honesty of his words and ignoring the sarcasm of the last. Of course they had always been honest with each other. He just never brought his feelings past the metaphorical suit jacket. His heart was very rarely on his sleeves, a long practiced tradition taught to him by his mother, and what she did to his father. She loosened their hands that were still entwined, and brought the one resting on the small of his back, up his side and she wrapped both arms around his neck. All the while, pulling herself closer to him and their lower half still swayed and their feet moved in the same rhythm.

"Did you mean what you said in the bathroom?" he asked as he shifted his hands so they were both at the small of her back.

"If you think I betrayed you, yes," she whispered.

This time, she actually caught the record changing songs. They had been so wrapped up in their memories and conversations that they had missed a whole song.

"Betrayal isn't about shredding a memo behind you back. Don't put me in the same category as your mother. I'm not going behind your back doing illicit things. You know I'm nothing like her. And if you can't see that after all these years…" she trailed off.

"I know you're not her," he whispered. "I just couldn't help but compare at that moment. I wanted to kill you for fighting my battle for me. You know I don't like to sit second chair."

"We're two peas, Harvey. It's why we're so good at pissing each other off and being awesome at the same time," she told him. "You fought a battle for me, I fought a battle for you. It had nothing to do with betrayal. I've always been behind you on your way to the top. And now that you're there, everyone is trying to push you down. I'm the one that has the rope tied around you to keep you there. I would give up everything, I did give up everything, to make sure you were protected. I'm not loyal to a fault, I'm loyal, period."

"And Daniel knew that," Harvey finished.

He felt Donna nod as her cheek brushed along his as she tightened her arms resting on his shoulders.

"So stay," he whispered into her ear. Even with her sitting at his desk yesterday, not even five feet separating them for 12 hours, he was still afraid she'd leave him because he hadn't proved to her yet how much he actually needed her on his side. Meanwhile, she kept showing it, day in and day out.

"To keep the rope steady at the top?" she asked.

"Because I need you," he told her. "Because we're united. And I think you need me as much as I need you."

They had always been masters at saying what they need to through glances or gestures. Often times, there were no words to describe how they felt, so they had to rely on body language and looks. Even when speaking, their body language is what they would look at, to see if the other was telling the the truth or leaving something out. She couldn't promise to always be there, after all, she never wanted to break a promise to him. But she could stay for as long as she possibly could.

"Okay," she agreed. She didn't miss his posture relax and the fingers slip slightly between her skirt and her blouse. She only closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief as she touched their heads together. Their dance moving slowly but surely around the boxes scattered along the floor as they danced to the record Gordon Specter had made because of them at one point in their past. When everything was simpler. When it wasn't so dangerous at the top. When they were two kids just trying to figure it all out.

* * *

She felt a familiar stare on them and when she opened her eyes, she knew exactly where to look. She glanced over his shoulder at Jessica as she stood in the shadows of the hallway. Harvey certainly wouldn't notice her, since his back was to the closed office door. And Donna was sure where Jessica was standing, couldn't be seen in the reflection of any of the glass in his office.

She watched as Jessica nodded once before Donna pulled herself as close to Harvey as she could get, one of her arms moving to drape over his shoulder, curling along the top of his shoulder blades. And her other arm moved to rest against his free shoulder, her hand moving into his hair at the back of his head, the strands weaving between her fingers.

"You did it," she whispered to him as she turned her head. Her lips brushed against temple, her warm breath against his cool skin made him shiver internally.

"We did it," he said as he emphasised the  _we_. He didn't miss the feel of her lips curling into a smile against his temple. And her certainly didn't miss her soft lips pressing a whisper of a kiss against his skin a few seconds later.

He savoured the moment, sure it wouldn't happen again for a while. They were about to hit the ground running with Daniel Hardman now officially gone, never to come back.

But he could at least count on her to be by his side, figuratively and literally. He wasn't sure when it happen. It seemed almost as if it happened gradually, seamlessly. It had always been there, but he had never been fully aware of it until the day he told her he needed her. Love was not something he was used to having in his life. Everyone left or had never loved him completely in the first place. His mother had taught him the latter, his father the former. But he could not tell her now, even with her wrapped up in his arms. Not with her fingers painting abstract circles and patterns against his scalp. Not even with the ballad his father composed for the two of them playing in the background as they stood, swaying with each other.

He'd have to come up with a grand master plan, sweep her off her feet. She'd say no to dating, because she already knew him more than he knew himself, and vice versa. Perhaps if he began with the fact that he loves her, would make her mind waver just enough to catch her off balance and give him a yes. He'd tell her that he didn't think it was ever possible to fall so completely in love with someone and not realise it until one day it just became a part of him.

But that night wasn't tonight. She wasn't ready. She was still trying to convince her subconscious she wasn't in love with him. And truth be told, he wasn't ready right now. So, for now, he'd take the small wins. He'd take this moment right now. He'd breathe in the familiar scent of ginger from her shampoo and something he couldn't quite place from her perfume, and memorise the feel of her against him. He'd see what it was like to live the life he knew she had been living since that night he told her they couldn't do this, that they shouldn't do this. He'd see how the other shoe fit… for now.


End file.
